


take a breath

by innersanctuaries



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, OR IS HE, he's still dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innersanctuaries/pseuds/innersanctuaries
Summary: Windy days gave way to windy streets, ruffling hair and clothes. Squinting eyes made a feeble attempt to keep debris from clouding vision, from tainting filthy tears. Train tracks streaking down bloody cheeks, dirt on desperate, relieved faces, all but one. One that felt a loss deeper than all the others combined.





	take a breath

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a long while, and apparently it's because I need a pairing where someone fucking DIES in order to be inspired at all. Incredible. 
> 
> Anyway, this is my first It fic and not gonna lie, I haven't read the book, I've only seen the first movie once, and I've only seen the second one twice (I streamed it, I'm not rich enough to go to the movies twice). Please have mercy!! There's a reason why there's no dialogue and it's because I have no fucking idea in hell how exactly I'd want to characterize them yet. BUT here we are, have a fic. 
> 
> Inspo song is Wolf by First Aid Kit (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iot7EZwwHJs)

Windy days gave way to windy streets, ruffling hair and clothes. Squinting eyes made a feeble attempt to keep debris from clouding vision, from tainting filthy tears. Train tracks streaking down bloody cheeks, dirt on desperate, relieved faces, all but one. One that felt a loss deeper than all the others combined.

Lost love burned in Richie’s chest, fury and an ache so deep it felt almost as if he’d been the one gutted by the monster. He should be rejoicing, smiling and breathing out for the first time since he was a child, but how could he when the only love he’d ever truly felt was gone? Gone, crushed under endless tons of dirt and debris, the remains of a place where so many had died. A bloody and terrible grave for such a beautiful face, one smeared with blood and pain until he’d left this place in a way so different from the rest of them. 

He wondered why he’d let Eddie die alone. Why Richie had left his side at all, leaving him to take his last gurgling, agonizing breath in screaming silence and loneliness. As they walked away, footfalls quiet around the howling wind, he thought of how there would be no grave to visit.

Cool water washed away the last he’d ever see of his friend, his dearest friend, one that was so much more than he could ever describe. The thread of his life continued to be spun, all while the Fates tucked away a bundle of string far too short for sunshine embodied. It wasn’t golden, and he wondered why it wouldn’t be, though it was all in his own head. Tears rolled down his cheeks alongside the rivulets that cleansed him of everything but the thought of his broken heart. 

There were so many losses, though only two belonged to him, to them. Selfishness dug into his chest and made a hideous little nest, hugging memories of Eddie tightly and refusing to share them with a single other soul. Envy clawed at his stomach, snarling as it realized that others had experiences with Eddie that he never would. He was a wolf, wailing at the sky with his pack around him, supporting him, holding him up from sliding beneath the water’s surface and floating away into whatever darkness came after a life like theirs. 

Arson, it was on Richie’s mind as he walked along the kissing bridge and saw that inscription from so many years ago. A knife flicked open and made sure it stayed there until the day he passed on. The stillness of the air around him chilled him to the bone, far worse than wind. It cut through his skin, his bones, slicing through the marrow and organs, splitting him open as his footsteps rang out like a drum. He knew he wouldn’t be coming back, and the silence of the birds and bugs and bushes told him that they knew the same.

Home felt empty, a dead quiet apartment housing a dead quiet heart. His soul cried out, a low and keening sob that made the world around him stand and stare in sorrow. So many years later, and he’d still known Eddie better than he’d ever know himself, yet he was more than aware that he had so much to re-learn. No more. There was no learning left for him, no desk to sit at, no classroom where he could come to know how Eddie’s lips might feel on his, how their bodies would feel pressed together in perfect ecstasy. Life was a hilariously cruel mistress, Richie had seen his friend live and die, never to know that it was him. It was always him, the one person he thought he couldn’t live without, the person he knew he would love until he was old and grey. He’d never know, a strangled bastard child of a sob and a bitter laugh wrenching its way from his mouth.

But he did live without Eddie. The Fates were cruel and simply kept spinning his thread while that of a dead boy lay gathering dust in a pile of others just like him. In the end, he really was just like the others: dead and gone. Richie lived, tears always at the ready. His days were stepping on shards of glass, walking on hot coals. He lived day to day on a bed of nails, swallowing swords of grief. Richie lived, more alone than ever before.

Somewhere, a body took the first breath it’d had in far too long. It seemed that what they all said was true. Nobody ever really dies in Derry.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that it wasn't windy when they bullied Pennywise to death, but let me have my poetic moment. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please comment feedback, it helps keep me motivated and helps me know what you guys do and don't like!
> 
> Follow me on Instagram at @archangelica_angelica or on tumblr at innersanctuaries if you want to get in touch or just to watch me shitpost!


End file.
